The Taming of the Ruffian
by magik-blood
Summary: To ruin Rapunzel's reputation, and force her into a marriage of her choosing, Gothel hires a notorious thief-for-hire to abduct her. Yet, her scheme falls apart when Rapunzel proposes to marry the man in order to salvage her own status in society. And, oddly enough, she begins to think she can put an end to her husband's womanizing ways. AU. M for smut maybe.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello all! You might know me from my Clandestine story that I've been writing for the past 3 years. This story has nothing to do with Clandestine but is another Tangled AU thingy. This story is more of a passion project and blend of a few of my favorite plays and literary themes; romantic era, Shakespeare, the classic rake trope, and of course the fairytale. It will be much more condensed than my other writing (and hopefully not too long!). But thank you all for giving it a shot! Your reviews would mean the world to me! (Also, I began this months ago, before starting my new job and before life got particularly crazy. If this gets a response I plan to continue with it. Thank you all!)

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 _The Taming of the Ruffian_

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i. If I be waspish, best beware my sting

* * *

 _Corona County. 1812._

"She walks in beauty, like the night…"

Rapunzel smiled to the handsome man's words as she sat beside him in a flourishing garden. He had a perfectly tailored coat and a vest of robin's blue that matched his light eyes. And, when he smiled, he looked to her with the clearest intent, boyish and without fault. He was tall, but not too tall, broad, but not to described as wide. He had an amiably shaped face. Square and free from side-burns or roguish scruff. He was only good and pure. Like a cup of tea before three cubes of sugar. Like a sunny day before the clouds on the horizon. And, what made him even more splendid to her, was the fact that he could recite poetry from memory.

He turned to her and regarded her with an impish smile before taking her gloved hand.

"Of cloudless climes and starry skies… And all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes."

Rapunzel blushed to his words as she was captured by his unwaveringly loving stare. "Byron," she noted of the poem, "you know his work?"

The man looked to her in confusion. "Byron? No, my lady. I only spoke such words from my heart. No man has written or said them before. And, if he has, the object of his desire could not be any more bewitching or as beguiling as yourself."

He was the perfect man. And, as he sat there, his golden hair reflecting in the light of the sun, and his tanned face looking to her as if she were the only woman he had ever seen…

Rapunzel opened her eyes and ceased the daydream.

Instead of a garden, she sat at her vanity, observing the pale mousy girl with heaps of blonde hair who peered back to her. She had, once again, tripped into a fantasy involving the sort of man that did not exist; one who noticed her.

 _"_ _Byron!"_ she gasped, talking to her own reflection _. "Surely you know all his work!"_ She then pouted her lips and narrowed her brow to appear more masculine and tortured. "No. I insist, my lady. You alone inspire such words! You alone are my muse… perhaps I am a poet, after all! For, I am inspired by your beauty and bewitched by your soul and taken by the lure of your large dowry-"

"Rapunzel!" gasped an older portly maid entering the young woman's bedchamber. It was her mother's servant, old Mrs. Bradshaw. "Your aunt is waiting for you in the carriage. She insists you must leave at once. Here. I have your shawl."

Rapunzel stood from her vanity and frowned to the sight of the long light-pink satin. She quickly tossed it about her shoulders as the maid evened out her appearance. As usual, Rapunzel found herself lost in a frock of muslin with the intention of attending the event of the season; The Alby Ball held at the Alby household. Nothing out of the ordinary. She had been anticipating the event for days, both with a hint of excitement and deep sense of dread. On one hand, she knew her controlling aunt would punish her if she caught her socializing. On the other hand, she secretly hoped for the courage to break from her hawk-like glare and be carried away by a man she was not related to.

However, such musings were as fantastical as a young man in Corona County who could recite Byron from memory.

She was Rapunzel Ravenwood. Orphaned at the age of five and sent far away to live with her aunt; a serious and belittling woman of high society who insisted Rapunzel call her Dame Gothel. Fortunately, Rapunzel's parents had left her a large fortune as their name was regarded as one of the wealthiest in the Corona county. And yet, this only presented Rapunzel with an array of problems. For one, Dame Gothel was a recluse and demanded Rapunzel never leave her side. Together, they were bound to a lonely large estate the aunt could hardly afford. And, if Rapunzel was to marry, Gothel intended to carry on leeching off the girl. How could she keep up the arrangement? It turned out she was as crafty as she was greedy and she had arranged Rapunzel to meet her only son; Cousin Nathaniel Gothel. A boorish man who drank to excess and ate himself to ailing health.

Upon their first meeting, Nathaniel had shown no interest in Rapunzel, as there was a hog feast before them and he was far too preoccupied with inhaling as much of the food as he could. And, in meetings since, the brutish man made it clear he was as cold and unfeeling as his mother.

Much to the young woman's dismay, one night after supper - when his lips were still greasy from the pork - he offered a proposal of marriage. He clumsily bent on his knee and produced a ring she was recognized from his mother's hand. Rapunzel could only stare to him and then to Gothel before quickly running from room. In a fit, she collected herself in the hallway. That was when Dame Gothel found her. A claw of hers roughly snatched the young woman's wrist.

"What has gotten into you, Rapunzel? Why, I've never seen a haughtier exit!"

"I can't do it!" Rapunzel gasped in tears. "Please, don't make me! I'm not ready! I can't do it!"

"You will marry my son! Don't you see? He will be the only man to ever want you – such a skinny thing you are. What? Do you think you're like that Bechamp girl? The kind that gets asked to dance?"

"No!" Rapunzel meekly responded. "But… what if there is another boy? I only want to know, before I make a certain decision!"

"How brainless! This is because you fill your head with all those worthless romance books and poems! Grow up from your childish fancies!" Her Aunt moved closer to her, her wild black hair making her appear more of a witch than a socialite. "Do you want me to be alone? Is that it? Do you want me to die penniless?"

Rapunzel said nothing as she looked emotionlessly to the bitter woman.

With that, Gothel's brow contorted to anger, and the back of her hand came down hard across Rapunzel's face. And, though the incident was nearly a month ago, Rapunzel still felt the sting as she joined her aunt in the carriage.

To please her aunt and cease her abuse, she confessed she was only overwhelmed by the shock of the proposal and needed a decent amount of time to process it all. Gothel permitted her niece, yet, Rapunzel knew her days of childish fancy were officially numbered.

The young woman beheld her fanciful aunt in the velvet upholstered carriage. She was dressed in bright red with black trimmings around her waist. Her hair was done neatly on the top of her head accompanied by a long black feather. She always dressed far wealthier than she was. A social tactic she had learned years earlier. Rapunzel, however, was done much more demurely. She was aware her aunt had her dressed in innocent colors and timid accessories as to not catch the eye of suitors. It almost made Rapunzel laugh. She was so bashful and simple, men hardly looked her way, and she doubted a tighter corset and feather would help much.

Mercifully, she was not the only awkward girl to attend these gatherings. She was assured she would be at the side of her good friend; Kitty Baker, daughter of Bill Baker who partially owned a popular Gentleman's club named _The Snuggly Duckling_. He did well with the business, even though the true owner of the establishment was a notorious young libertine, too consumed by the eccentric lifestyle of a womanizer to pay his own business much mind.

"What is on your mind?" asked Gothel staring across to Rapunzel who realized she had been smiling out the window. "You have a smile. That can only mean you are thinking up one of your intolerable fantasies." Rapunzel almost laughed, amused at her how tight the woman's jar became when she spoke angrily, the words barely squeaking out.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Dame Gothel," she began, "but I am not. I was merely thinking of the joy of speaking to Kitty tonight."

"Good, because as you are aware, there will be great consequences if I catch you with a bachelor. Is that understood?"

Rapunzel laughed a bit at the idea. "Can you even picture me approaching a bachelor, aunt?"

"Yes…" she said slowly. "Actually, I do recall you observing one man in particular. And, by the way your eyes just widened, I can tell you know whom I'm speaking of."

Rapunzel looked to her submissively and a tad embarrassed. She shook her head. "There is no one I admire. No one."

"My, you are a liar, dear. You've gotten that from your father, no doubt. My sister would never have been so deceiving."

Rapunzel had become numb to Gothel bringing up her the subject of her parents. Her heart yearned to know more about them, though, the only way she seemed to learn were through her snide remarks. Gothel hated Rapunzel's father and she often compared her to him.

After sitting in silence through the remainder of the bumpy ride, they came to the Alby townhouse and were escorted inside to behold the ornate beauty of the hall. The music that wafted from the piano grasped Rapunzel's senses and she became elated by the soft whispers of men and giggles of women. Every young man was dressed finely in dark velvet, white cravats, and elegant waistcoats. The women sauntered by, long flowing fabric tracing behind them, with ribbons around their necks and flowers in their hair. Soon, Rapunzel met the eye of a young woman seated alone on the side of the ballroom. Once her aunt was preoccupied in conversation, Rapunzel darted to the side of her friend.

Kitty rose to greet her and the two shared a kiss on the cheek. Kitty was equally as mousy as Rapunzel, however, her shyness was a prison of her own design rather than a guardian's. The brown-haired girl was a thin as a rail, with frizzed hair, a long nose, and a stutter that would arise in the presence of handsome young suitors. The two women connected over the fact that they sat out every dance while the other belles of society were quick to be asked to the floor. Yet, Rapunzel did not mind sitting and chatting with the girl. After their very first conversation, she knew Kitty was a kindred spirit. She too adored current writers who spoke of nature as if she were a lover. Due to Kitty's far more reasonable upbringing, she was allowed a certain amount of freedom and could travel to the town's bookstore, if accompanied by an escort, of course. Rapunzel was embarrassed of her aunt's tight grip on her social life but Kitty was ever kind and understanding. She would always allow Rapunzel to borrow her books when she was done.

Lately, Kitty had found pleasure in scandalizing her innocent friend. This included her purchasing a book with the premise of a girl fallen prisoner of a rich French Marquis. It included shocking scenes such as; _the seduction_. Where in, the Marquis approaches the young woman and speaks of her performing wifely duties without the promise of marriage. The book had the unexpected title of _; The French Marquis,_ and Rapunzel read it without hardly blinking. And, though the phrasing of some passages made her blush feverishly, it was nothing compared to the gossip they would often share of popular members of high society.

"Did you hear of Lady Caroline Lamb and her publication in the Childe Harold this week?" asked Kitty keeping her voice low.

"No!" gasped Rapunzel. "Do tell. What has that wild woman done now?"

Kitty smiled playfully, "Wait until I lend you my issue. She speaks of her first encounter with Lord Byron."

Rapunzel's largely expressive eyes doubled in size at the name. The man's personal life was not her favorite topic to speak of. "Kitty, you know I enjoy his writing, but the man himself is-"

"Mad? Bad? Dangerous to know?"

"Actually. Yes… all three."

"That is just what Caroline has stated! She said at once, with only a single glance of his wild appearance, she knew he was mad, bad, and dangerous to know. Could you imagine having such an innate opinion of person? You know, they say he's so handsome, women faint at the look of him!"

"Sounds unholy to me," Rapunzel sighed, "could be he has the devil in his eyes."

"Oh, my… The devil in his eyes. When shall you start writing of wicked romances?"

"Wicked? Never. If I ever do tell a story, it will be my own. And one of good decent love with a respectable man who has no animal spirits – or whatever they say that Byron possesses."

"But dearest, all men have animal spirits," Kitty explained. "My brother says it's in their nature and cannot be helped."

Rapunzel looked to her friend with a renewed interest. "Your own brother says that?"

"Yes, but that's not to say he's a savage enslaved by his own… virility."

 _"_ _Hush!"_ Rapunzel exclaimed before looking around to make certain no one heard. "Really, you know we are in public?" Kitty laughed but Rapunzel went on, explaining herself. "True love is far more becoming than passionate love. I only hope my husband is… wholesome… but keen. Wickedness can be appealing but gluttony of the flesh is not. Women would be appalled by a man who did nothing but lounge around and eat sweets. He'd be stout and boring! So why are women so interested in men who do nothing but... well." She did not let her thoughts linger on the depravities of such men.

"A man who does nothing but eat? And who are you describing, I wonder?"

Rapunzel smiled at the unintentional insult. "I did not mean to describe my dear fiancé to be…"

"But, you did. Tell me, is he still being so awful and forward?"

Rapunzel looked away, straightening the folds of her dress. "He has relented, for the time being, yet I know it won't be long. And I fear the consequences of turning him down again."

Kitty took Rapunzel's hand in hers and the girls offered each other a look of caring and unbreakable friendship. "It is not right. They can't force you into a marriage you do not want."

"Auntie says it's a marriage of connivance and marrying for love is only for the middleclass."

"Your auntie should read The French Marquis."

Rapunzel scoffed at the thought, "Yes, just after the world freezes over."

Kitty laughed, and, as she did, she caught the eye of someone across the room, her smile widened. The male face looked back cheerfully to her. It belonged to a man who had been in the middle of a dance with one of his many acquaintances. Rapunzel followed her friend's gaze and suddenly felt frozen with nerves at the sight of the young man. In the next moment, the dance ended. Rapunzel watched with envy as the young man took the hand of his dancing partner and gently kissed her knuckles. But then, she panicked once more, realizing he was headed straight toward the pair.

"Brother!" greeted Kitty standing to meet the man. Rapunzel shyly did the same. "I thought you said you had business to attend to tonight?"

"Ah," said the man with a dismissive shake of his head, "The Snuggly Duckling will still be standing in the morning. Father allowed me the pleasure of the Alby Ball tonight and I was hardly in the position to dismiss a bit of fun." As he carried on, he looked to Rapunzel who nervously glanced to the floor. The sight of the flushed girl with a heap of blonde hair atop her head made him smile like a playful boy. Perhaps he only saw her as a second little sister, but to Rapunzel, each pleasant glance of his eye was a secret confession of undying love.

"Miss Ravenwood. A pleasure to see you, again."

Rapunzel offered him a small curtsy as his head dipped in a slight bow.

"You as well, Mister Baker," she said, her voice just over a whisper.

The young mister Baker - better referred to as Johnny - had met Rapunzel on a few occasions. However, little did he know, they met far more often in her romantic daydreams. Her eyes fell over his appearance and she was taken back to see he wore a blue vest, as vivid as a robin's breast. Much to her shock, the color matched his eyes, and it was just as she had pictured it in her imagination. She tightly clenched her jar as he offered her his arm.

"Might we see what delights await in the banquet hall? I'm feeling a bit peckish after my exertion on the dance floor."

Rapunzel laughed awkwardly before glancing around for her aunt. Fortunately, she appeared to be nowhere in sight. So, Rapunzel took the man's arm, and Kitty happily took his other, and they walked to the less crowded hall.

There, they stood and spoke before the hearth, each with a small cup of raspberry cordial. Kitty and Johnny did most the talking, but Rapunzel would occasionally chime in with agreement to the man. She was careful to observe every inch of him. From his modestly tied cravat to his smart but worn clothes. He possessed the humble appearance of an honest working man. To her, he was as perfect as any love interest in a novel. Though, he was not as aloof as most of them were depicted. He was straightforward and always stated things as plainly as he could.

"Father has an unbelievable workload this month with the club," said Johnny scratching his bare cheek. "You won't believe the effort that needs to be done."

"And that brutish man refuses to help?" asked Kitty.

Johnny smirked at her cutting words. "I'll remind you that brutish man is my good friend."

"I don't know how that can be," she went on. "After what he did to Lydia Bechamp. How can anyone regard him with even the slightest amount of tolerance?"

Rapunzel was lost to her friend's meaning and only had a faint idea of who they were speaking of. And, though she did not care much for talk of business, she did enjoy the handsome look of pain it brought to Johnny's face. She imagined being the one to make him happy after a long day of work at the club.

"Everyone knows how his father's money is dwindling. And, though the club is the most popular in the county, I'm afraid father cannot keep it afloat himself. He hardly listens to a word I say. But I know the changes that need to be made to make it as glorious as it once was! If only I could find the owner when he was not… undisposed." He chuckled at the word as if it held a double meaning to him.

Johnny then suddenly seemed distracted. His eyes were drawn past the women to a figure from the opposite corner of the room. He looked away and laughed dryly to himself before finishing his drink with a swig.

"What is it, Johnny?" Kitty asked. He smiled and nodded in the direction of the sight. Both women followed his suggestion and were met with the appearance of a tall man regarding a group of three women.

Rapunzel's jaw became unhinged by the sight. It reminded her of an illustration straight from an illustrious paperback. The man, dressed as boldly as a foreign prince, held one arm around a young woman while the other two seemed to fawn over his every word. It appeared he had coerced them away from their chaperons and more respectful dance partners. And, though his appearance was regal, his still wore a tall hat that was cocked to the side. It gave the sense that he thought little of the dance and did not even think to remove his outerwear. Or, perhaps, it was indicative of the fact that he planned on making hasty exit.

"Blazes! Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear," mused Kitty, turning away from the sight. "You think he would have the decency to at least try to appear gentile."

"A man of his upbringing never had to appear to be anything," said Johnny. "But, my word! He has outdone himself with that suit. Look at that sharp collar!" Johnny placed his empty glass on a passing tray and turned to Rapunzel with a disarming grin. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you ladies, but alas, business calls." With that, he dashed to meet the man. Rapunzel practically reached out to him with all the yearning of a wife leaving her soldier husband.

Never one to notice her friend's interest in her older brother, Kitty groaned, and sneered at the sight of Johnny approaching the mysterious man.

"Won't you tell me who that is?" asked Rapunzel, angered Johnny had left them for someone apparently more important. "Or, am I to believe the dreadful Lord Byron himself has made an appearance?"

"Ha! That man there makes Lord Bryon sound like an innocent church boy." Rapunzel practically felt faint at the thought. She glared to the tall stranger in disbelief. "No. Unfortunately, that is my father's business partner. You would not have met him, he does not usually attend such good-natured events. No… he'd rather lurk in the gutters and mope around his sprawling estate."

As Rapunzel stared to him, he turned to address Johnny, and she was able to get a better look at his appearance. He possessed a long face with a sharp nose that made for an elegantly striking profile. Brown eyes glinted in the soft light and seemed to whisper of promises and lies before she even glanced lower to his attractive lips. He certainly was handsome. Too handsome for his own good. His chestnut colored hair was abundant and stylishly disheveled and he possessed fashionably large sideburns with a bit of scruff at his chin that added to his sense of roguish appeal. From the top if his head, to the toe of his pointed boot, he was undeniably the perfect image of a fanciful, foppish, man-about-town, only interested in affairs reeking of hedonism and whisky.

"But Johnny said he was a good friend of his. Certainly, your brother does not entertain horrible men?" asked Rapunzel taking Kitty's arm as if to steady herself from the sight of the man.

"Certainly. But, unfortunately, they were good friends in their younger years at boarding school. And you know how men are with the chums they bonded with during the wilds of their youth."

Rapunzel watched as Johnny pleasantly dismissed the women from the man's presence. She could tell he wished to begin a serious conversation, one the taller man did not want to be a part of.

"And… his name is?"

Kitty raised a brow, "Sir Eugene Ryder. Though, I find it humorous and uncivilized to call him only by his first name; Flynn."

Sir Eugene Ryder smiled to Johnny and greeted him as if he had been just the man he was waiting the entire evening for. It was an enchanting quality he had; the ability to make everyone feel like the most important person in the room. And, much to his own dismay, Johnny had always been moldable in the ever-persuasive hands of his old schoolmate.

"Damn me!" Flynn declared. "All the delectable women here and you're set on my company? Surely, I am not the most interesting person in the room at this moment."

"Oh, don't do yourself such a disservice, my friend. It appears you've spent more time prettying yourself than any lady I see."

Flynn smiled as if it were a great compliment. He adored extravagance and every part of him eluded an air of showmanship. From his clothing, to the manner in which he flourished every word he spoke, he was something like a character one might see in an opera. Unflinching and never revealing what hid behind the charade.

"Do you really think?" Flynn smirked, tugging at his whimsically knotted cravat. "My tailor is out of town and I've had a devil of a time with his replacement. Curse me, he had my sleeves looking as admirable as dish rags. And, If only you caught glimpse of my vests… damn me, I can hardly bear the sight."

"Understandably distressing," said Johnny, not even slightly sure what the man was speaking of.

"I see you were quick to dismiss my company," began Flynn, turning the subject, "but what of those women you were just speaking to? Bad form, my friend. You don't see me saving every damsel from your clutches."

Johnny looked to the man in confusion, "I assure you, no woman has ever needed saving from my presence. And those women there are my sister and her friend."

"Damn me! Your sister and her friend?" asked Flynn, dismissing the women but teasing Johnny with a nudge. "I'll have you know I engaged in a similar affair last spring in Paris. They have a charming phrase for it which, of course, escapes me now. Oh, well. But you know the French. Much more open minded. When we say taboo, they say; please and thank you! Haha!"

"Ryder-" Johnny responded unnerved, hoping to cease the man's off-color humor. "I think you know full well I do not wish to speak of your latest exploits… or your fashion drama, for that matter."

"No, sir? What else is there to speak of? I do hope you don't intend to drag work into such a frivolous affair?"

"I do intend to speak to you of the club. But not here. That urgent matter is better left for another day. One where I can require your full attention." As he spoke, he noticed Flynn's eye wander to a different lady across the room. A young woman who seemed eager and unknowing of the illicit reputation the man bore. "Or…" concluded Johnny with a sigh, "as much attention as you're willing to spare."

"Johnny!" snapped Flynn as he placed an arm around his friend's shoulder and guided him toward the woman. "What say you to making merriment with that lovely cherry? I'm afraid every moment you're in my presence your status grows in further peril. You don't want my immorality to rub off on you, do you?" Johnny groaned and removed himself from Flynn's arm, swiftly dodging his attempt at distraction. Flynn became slightly nervous by this. "Don't tell me you've come to chastise me like the rest…?" he asked. Yet, with a look of seriousness, Flynn instantly knew that was exactly what his friend intended. "Damn me! I've seen that look on every other face I've greeted tonight. I know I'm devilishly handsome with a wardrobe to match but I don't think it's entirely-"

"Please, you know I care little for your rumors. And, I'm sure people are only a bit… bemused by your presence. I just want to know - what makes this event grand enough to warrant your attendance?"

Flynn laughed to himself before theatrically revealing a folded letter from inside his vest. He raised his brows suggestively and swaggered closer to Johnny with a pompous grin.

"I was invited for a midnight brush in the library. Does it shock you? That ladies with well enough station to attend the Alby Ball would be interested in… a brush? Or, forgive me, what is it you insist on calling it? An amorous congress?" Johnny went to grab the note but Flynn pulled it away and tucked it neatly into a layer of silk. "For shame, Johnny! Sharing a lady's private letter to her strange lover would be the height of bad manners, don't you agree?"

Rapunzel watched as Flynn and Johnny found their way to the ballroom. She stayed with Kitty as they settled on a chaise lounge by the fireplace.

"And what makes him so… terrible?" Rapunzel asked, her mind still lingering on the tall dark man.

"Rumors," shrugged Kitty. "I wouldn't dare repeat what I've heard. I can only say the man is drawn to debauchery like a moth to the flame. Well… not quite. Because, you see, the moth is dim-witted and does not know what harm the flame could cause. Flynn, however, he wants the harm and danger. And what's worse is that he seeks it himself! I know him so well because he comes around often due to his business with my father. Of course, he's never once given me more than a glance... I'm not exactly his type. But then again, I avoid him like the plague."

"You must elaborate on his reputation or I'll go mad wondering," said Rapunzel turning to Kitty. She found it as exhilarating as gossip of faraway socialites.

"His father recently died and he inherited his estate," Kitty began, in a lower voice. "He's been blowing straight through the money without regard for where he might end up. No doubt, he's searching for a wealthy heiress of his own. But he's tactless and refuses to abide by the rules of courtship. After all, he ruined sweet Lydia."

"As you've said… but what do you mean?" asked Rapunzel innocently. Kitty looked to her as if she were joking.

"You must know."

"I don't."

"He… ruined her," Kitty sighed, not certain how to explain the event in gentile words. "So, no other man will see her... to ever be a proper bride. Sort of like The French Marquis but not at all romantic. They were found together… in a compromising position. Her father was so irate he challenged him to a duel! Flynn was nearly killed. He claims the bullet grazed past his left ear and whispered to him like a… promiscuous lady in a… house of ill repute."

"My word! He sounds like some sort of villain in a penny dreadful!"

"Yes. And, that poor Lydia. She had to settle for a penniless boy in town. Of course, she's not the only one he's ruined. But she was only seventeen and far too naive to understand the ramifications of the act. Flynn on the other hand, as you can see, is a man well into his early thirties."

Rapunzel felt a chill at the thought. She herself was twenty and two and could not imagine speaking to a man as notorious as Sir Eugene Ryder. Still, questions lingered in her mind. She had known Lydia and the girl was as straight as they came. Surely, a girl so level-headed would not allow Sir Eugene Ryder to take her away to a life of shame? And Ryder himself, did he not have any better offers? It appeared he could have any woman he wanted.

No. She knew then something was not correct.

"I'm surprised he's even here," Kitty went on. "Everyone knows how Lady Alby despises him. But... that's the thing, I suppose. People may despise him but no one truly hates him. It seems he gets away with as much as the dickens."

"Auntie has a word for men like that…" mentioned Rapunzel, smiling to herself. "It's what she calls the men I read about; ruffians!"

* * *

As the night went on, Flynn found himself alone in the library of the Alby manner. There was a reason he did not share the note with Johnny. On any other occasion, he would have declared the love note, word for titillating word, for anyone to hear. He reveled in the whispers people shared of his illicit escapades and hardly cared for manners. In fact, he was surprised Johnny was not suspicious of him when he did not jump to brag of the supposed love note. But, that was just the problem, it was not a love note. In fact, it was the furthest thing from a love note. It was an inquiry of business. A business Sir Eugene Ryder kept well hidden from anyone in his circle of associates, as he kept many things well hidden.

It was moments - like the one he presently found himself in - that he allowed his carefully crafted mask to lower. When he was alone, he did not have to put on the character of the careless dandy; Sir Eugene Ryder. He did not have to hold his chin high and speak like the rich socialites in the city. He was only Flynn, a soon to be poor man, grasping for a sense of importance in a world that only valued ridiculous people and extravagant trivialities.

He smiled to the note as he stood in the dimly lit room. The request could not have come at a better time. Much to his poor judgment, he had recently lost a great sum of money on a bet. It was a cutting loss to his already shriveling funds.

And then, as he stood leaning on the mantle, he began to hear the door slowly creek close. He glanced up to see Dame Gothel pushing the door shut as she had been standing in the shadows entire time. He was instantly taken by her intense gaze and alluring presence. He had always appreciated a dramatic entrance and he cursed himself for not thinking of an equally staged reveal. Oh well, the rogue languidly leaning on the mantle would have to do. He placed a hand on the high waist of his tight breeches and smiled easily to the older woman. Instantly, he was back in the outlandish character of Sir Eugene Ryder.

She crossed her arms and elegantly strode to meet him. "Sir Ryder. How kind of you to surrender to my wish."

"Your note was both vague and indirect," he raised a brow. "Two qualities I look for in secret meetings."

She smiled and gracefully took a seat, crossing one long leg over the other. Flynn cocked his head to the side, admiring how her figure sank into the velvet armchair. As she cattily smirked to him, a shadow from the fire cast over her face, making her appear villainously mysterious. "I hear whispers of your repute… How money changes hands and suddenly a girl's good name is ruined."

Flynn creased his brow before shrugging indifferently.

"I'm flattered such a reputation proceeds me. However, I must warn you, I am very busy of late. My tailor, or, my tailor's replacement I should say, has ordered the entirely wrong fabric and I've had a hell of a time getting the silk of my vests to lay flat. Damn me, it takes up the better part of my day, fastening the cursed thing."

"That sounds inconvenient. But I'm sure your manservant can arrange a schedule to fit in a job involving a pretty blonde."

A frown tugged at Flynn's lips. He recognized long ago that he somewhat differed from the average man. He seemed to find greater pleasure in women than most he knew. And, the constant thought to conquer another often penetrated his daily thoughts. While he fancied himself as a gentleman boulevardier, he was instinctually consumed by a hunger that was utterly insatiable. Of course, it did not stop him from trying to tame his appetite, time and time and time again.

"Pretty little blonde, you say? And her age? I don't think I can afford another innocent on my register."

"Innocent she may be, but, she is woman enough as to not cause another mob to be sent after you… And, I will offer quite a large sum. Half tonight and half after the deed is done. Enough to ensure you a hundred properly fitted silk vests."

"Hmm," said Flynn turning fully toward her. "Now you have my attention. But, I must know more about the girl. Why are you enlisting the likes of a degenerate like I?"

"She is my wretched niece; Rapunzel-"

"What a wildly exotic name!" Flynn interrupted. "Sounds rather like a spice… or a shoe designer…"

"She has her mind set on a love match marriage," Gothel carried on. "However, I want her to marry a man of my choosing. I need her reputation to be ruined so no man will have her except the one I want."

"Ah, yes…" Flynn lowly rumbled in excitement. "The classic scene of seduction. It will call for a candlelit hearth and a maid who knows too much. I'll come to her, with my gallant great-coat, complaining I am cold from the road-"

"No, Sir Ryder. I'm afraid this will not be as easy as plucking a blushing lady from a dance. The girl is unfavorably headstrong and unsociable. No one will believe she's gone off with a man like you. No. I will be needing something more… old-fashioned."

Flynn caught her meaning at once and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"An abduction! Oh, yes. As classic and beautiful as the Rape of Persephone…" he exclaimed, with a flourishing roll of the R. "Rape, of course, from the Latin word _rapere_ meaning; to seize, to carry off, to be whisked away by a bandit in the night."

"Do what you must," said Gothel coldly. "You'll hear no objection from me."

"Ah, but my skills - and the level of soiled reputation - depend solely upon what you pay. I know you said it would be a large sum. But I'll be needing it doubled."

"Greedy jackanapes! Why would you require so much money?"

"It will be a whole production! Then there's the added cost of the new cape I'll need. As I've said - quite a number of times tonight, actually -my tailor is indisposed. I'll need to go to this pricey bastard who cares for me as much as the devil cares for holy water. And then, damn me, we shall need to rehearse!"

"Rehearse?! Who? For what?"

"Well, me and my stagecoach driver, of course. Do you think these things are just thrown together as messily as a windstorm?"

"Oh, please! This occasion calls for no pomp and circumstance. You'll simply carry her away, kicking and screaming, and be certain the rumor extends far and near. She'll have no care for how you look or how you are dressed!"

Flynn glared to her as if she had done him the highest dishonor. "I'm sorry, Madam. But those are the standards of a self-respecting thief-for-hire. And all at regular union rates!"

"You drive a hard bargain. Especially for a useless fop who gets his coin from ruining young women and their reputations."

Flynn stiffened his jaw. A certain young belle came to mind and he cursed himself for agreeing to the arrangement. It left an awful streak on his already tattered status and a sour taste that constantly lurked in his mouth.

"People come to me to have all sorts of heiresses ruined," he began. "I don't care much for the reasoning why. However, I do care much for my end of the deal. I know what women want. I can see into their essence… where their most guarded fantasies run rampant. They confess to me what they've always desired, freed from the shackles of our strict society. And, together, we explore realms of hidden yearning impossible to explain with mortal speech." His voice was a deep ripple and Gothel could not help but smile at his confidence. "I can assure you, Madam, any woman who was ruined by the likes of I _thoroughly_ enjoyed herself. And that's something I take pride in."

Gothel wondered if there was anything the vanity-centric man didn't take pride in.

"Come to her window at midnight next Thursday. I'll leave a ladder and send you correspondence with further details," said Gothel, getting up and tossing a coin purse to Flynn. He caught it and nodded, pleased at the hefty weight. "Oh," she added, just before heading to the door. "I meant to add; if you dispose of her altogether, I'll throw in an extra payment. Whatever price you see fit."

The statement sent a chill over Flynn. It was something he never encountered; a person more villainous than himself. Yet, an easy smile quickly masked his look of distaste. He reminded himself of his financial dire straits… and his miserable vests.

"Tempting. But, damn me, I don't think I have the constitution for prison life."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome back, everyone! Thank you for the reviews! I'm glad Clandestine is not forgotten. I wonder sometimes if I'll ever write something as long and rewarding lol. Anyways, this was meant to be a short story but as usual I'm getting carried away and planning on making it into something original based on the Rapunzel fairytale (and other fairytale characters you might spot in this chapter). Please tell me what you think!

* * *

ii. woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her.

* * *

The days passed tediously to Rapunzel. And, after the night at the Alby Ball, a different man had begun to lurk in her daydreams. She imagined the sinister Sir Eugene Ryder taking her as grievously as he had taken Lydia Bechamp. She thought up the scenario that took place at a grand ball. She imagined Ryder had pulled her away from a dance with Johnny. And, though Johnny would be beside himself with jealously, he would not show it, but allow his friend a harmless dance. However, Sir Eugene Ryder would whisk her away. Johnny would be in a panic and worried sick for the defenseless girl. And then, Rapunzel saw herself thrown over the terrible man's broad shoulder as he carried her off to the master bedchamber.

She fell back on her own bed and imagined Flynn roughly throwing her on the much grander bed in her mind. She would close her eyes and pretended instead she was gazing into his dark glare. Perhaps, he would be rough and indiscreet with her. Pulling her skirts hastily above her knee, or placing his mouth somewhere unsuitable, like the span of skin across her throat. She was breathless at the thought as she withered in her own bed. And then, the climax, so to speak. Johnny would burst in pointing a pistol to Flynn. Of course, Flynn would laugh and say something as cad-like as; _"I'm your oldest friend, you would never think of killing me!"_ And Johnny would insist; _"You dared to disrespect the woman I love. You are no longer any friend of mine!"_

He would shoot him, killing him then and there. And then, the happy ending. Johnny would rush to her side and desperately hug her before asking her a hundred times if she was hurt. And, at the sudden realization that she could have been so easily taken from him, he would propose, and she would quickly agree. No more Gothel. No more Cousin Nathaniel. No more ruffians in the night.

But, as the days accumulated to a week, she sensed she was closer to a binding marriage contract than to Johnny professing his love.

It was Thursday night when Dame Gothel invited Nathaniel over for another dinner. They went through the usual paces until they were all seated in the study after supper. It was then that Nathaniel saw fit to place himself on the couch next to Rapunzel.

"Rapunzel, dear, you are coming around the idea of the marriage, aren't you?" asked Gothel, pouring herself another drink of gin. Suddenly on the spot, Rapunzel only stammered through a meek response.

"I – I suppose. Of course, these things are – are difficult to maneuver. There are so many emotions involved, after all."

"Emotions!" spat Nathaniel in disgust. "Such a stupid womanly response. There is nothing to think of. Family comes first and you must attend to dear mother and myself! I am your only cousin, after all. How you sleep at night knowing you keep me waiting, I have not the faintest!"

"Now, now," began Gothel. "Dear son, I have a feeling Rapunzel will be giving her answer very shortly."

Rapunzel eyed her mother and wondered what could have given her such an idea. Nathaniel, however, smiled knowingly.

"That is right, pet," he said, suddenly sweetening to Rapunzel. "You know I would offer you protection against the rogues of society. Who knows what knaves lurk in the shadows these days. You will soon see how lucky you are to have a man like myself." Rapunzel recoiled as his ham-like hand brushed against her cheek. He frowned at her response. "Prudish brat. No wonder you've yet to find yourself a husband."

Rapunzel stood at that, carefully keeping her gaze to the floor. "Might I be excused, aunt? I have sharp head pain and I wish to get to bed early."

"Please, child. In fact, I will have your windows left open tonight, so a cool breeze might comfort it."

Rapunzel nodded to her and quickly curtsied to Nathaniel before leaving the room. Once she was gone Nathaniel enjoyed a clever laugh with himself.

"The scene is set," said Gothel looking out a near window. "Now all we have to do is wait for that damned popinjay to appear."

"Yes, yes. But what will people say when I take her as a wife? A woman soiled by a notorious scoundrel. Won't that be a touch awkward?"

"Of course not, son. You will be praised for your good will and charitable heart! All will think you as noble as King Author for taking in the wounded bird with a fabulous inheritance."

Unaware of their plotting, Rapunzel undid her neat coiffure, and her blonde waves fell freely to the middle of her back. She watched as Mrs. Bradshaw opened her floor length window causing the sheer drape to slightly blow in the wind. Once the uncaring maid left, Rapunzel tried to push thoughts of Nathaniel from her mind. She collapsed onto her bed finding herself exhausted by the stress of the dinner. As she pushed the thoughts of one intolerable man away, a different came to mind, and she began to lose herself in her fantasies.

And, as she laid in bed, still in her elegant gown from dinner, her mind wandered to the scandalizing words she read in _The French Marquis_. But, instead of an ominous Frenchman, she thought of the boyish Johnny Baker. Before she knew it, her tied eyes closed, and her dreams lingered a certain scene from the book…

As she dreamt, she was herself, but in the grand French castle of a man who had just carried her to his bedchamber. The French Marquis placed her on the edge of the bed and she looked up to the familiar face of Johnny who was dressed in large Elizabethan sleeves and a dashing feathered hat. He knelt before her and his light eyes turned to slits as he regarded her with a sensuous look.

"Don't move, my darling, you look so lovely just like that. My, how the fire's light makes your skin glow…"

She held her breath as one of his large hands took her by the ankle. And then, she sighed at the feeling of him sliding off her slipper. His hand clasped her small foot and he quickly removed the other. Chills ran over her legs and arms and he smirked to her.

"Cold, are you? Don't worry. Soon, you shall be so warm, you'll swear, your skin is ablaze." She sighed pleasantly as he moved closer to her face. "Come, let us smolder together."

Much to her shock, he stood and grabbed her by the shoulders. Before she could protest, his large arms were around her, and, in the next moment, she was moving from her bed.

Rapunzel's eyes blinked open from her short sleep. The dream had seemed so real that indeed, it appeared to still be carrying on. But, no, she was certain she was awake. Then how was it possible she was still in the arms of a man?

She looked up to realize an intruder had just plucked her from her bed and she was currently being held in his arms. Her heart leapt to her throat as fear struck her as fiercely as lightning.

"Oh, awake, are you?" asked Sir Eugene Ryder. "A sound sleeper, you are. And, forgive me, but do you always sleep in your evening gown?"

As she inhaled sharply to scream, he quickly placed a hand over her mouth.

"Now, now, none of that. You don't want to awaken your Aunt, do you? If you scream, I cannot promise that my response will be gentleman-like."

However threatening the man wished to sound, his smile made the effect less menacing. Yet, his words were no less terrifying to Rapunzel. Frozen in fear, she realized he was carrying her toward the window. Her mind raced as time seemed to slow. But how could it be him? What did he want with her? Was she still amid one of her untamed fantasies? Either way, she began to push against him, struggling at his gloved grip.

"Cease that at once!" he said removing his hand from her mouth and clutching her tighter. She gasped in fear.

"Unhand me! Please!" she breathlessly begged, trying her best to keep her voice even. "I'm not the sort of girl worth kidnapping! Let me go!"

"Silence," he hissed as he looked out the window knowing it would be too dangerous and difficult to carry her down. "Damn me, this is what comes of rushing an abduction!" With that, he heaved Rapunzel over his shoulder and turned to her door. She gasped as his hand fondled the back of her upper thigh. "Forgive the lack of theatrical drama, dear. But we'll be exiting the ordinary way." As he dashed down the hallway, Rapunzel watched as her life flashed before her eyes, literally. They passed portraits from her youth and countless family heirlooms. All memories from childhood, and recollections she held onto so tightly, it was hard for her to accept time had passed at all.

Flynn descended the staircase and began to maneuver toward the foyer. It seemed to Rapunzel that she was about to be whisked away from her home as easy as a flower was plucked from the garden. However, much to her surprise, Flynn suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. She looked over her shoulder to see they had been intersected by Nathaniel who had gone downstairs for a cup of tea in his nightcap and gown.

Flynn eyed the man, uncertain if he was in one the ruse. But soon, Nathaniel gasped in mock fear and Flynn realized; not only was he in on the plot – the man had no care for the girl he currently held over his shoulder. Not to mention he was terrible at pretending to be surprised.

"Please, Nathaniel!" Rapunzel cried. "Save me!"

"Oh, no!" cried the man in a poor attempt at acting. "I shall alert the authorities, post haste!"

"What? Where are you – Nathaniel!" Rapunzel groaned in annoyance as the man hurried back into the kitchen.

Flynn rolled his eyes, "And that is what comes of skipping rehearsals." He hurried to the front door and quickly slipped from the manner. As they were met with the brisk night air, Rapunzel watched his cape flow behind him in the wind. She instantly was reminded of the stylish figure from the Alby Ball. And, she had to admit, the cape was a lovely fabric and fitting for the dashing man. However, her thoughts quickly returned to the problem at hand. Flynn opened the door of an awaiting carriage and placed her inside before climbing in himself. He then quickly rapped at the top of the car to signal the driver.

"Damn me! Nothing like an old-fashioned abduction. Gets your heart pounding, doesn't it my darling?" Dazed, Rapunzel looked beside her to the pleased man that still gripped her arm as the carriage began its bumpy ride down cobblestone. "But, please, don't fret," he added in a smooth, low, voice. "And I hope you will forgive the suddenness of this meeting."

He spoke as if was apologizing for stepping on her foot during a dance. She gaped to him, covering her hand over the top of her dress. His eyes lowered to her and she felt a fierce blush grow on her face.

"Blaggard!" she cried in shaking voice. "What are you doing? You'll be hanged for this! Have you no sense of propriety?"

"What am I doing? Is it not clear? Why, I saw you at the Alby Ball, and – damn me – I thought there never was a prettier creature. I hear you are shrewish but with a romantic mind. You see, that is where we find common ground, darling. I too am very romantic. And, what could be more romantic than the classic scene of rape?" Rapunzel lurched away from him at the word but he laughed, quickly explaining himself. "Rape from the Latin word; _rapere_ meaning to seize, to carry off, to be abducted by a bandit in the-"

"Please!" she begged once more, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I do not know what you think of me, but I can assure you, I am not worth the effort!"

Her plea tugged at his heart. Odd. He was not expecting that. And, even though most of his words were scripted and rehearsed, he could not help but notice the girl did have an eloquent beauty about her. Her face was delicate, though, she possessed the largest and greenest eyes he had ever seen. Sort of like that damned green drink that made drunk men speak of fairies.

"To me, it appears you are worth a great deal of effort…"

"What do you plan to do with me?" she gasped. "My Aunt- she is a powerful woman – you'll be ruined for this!"

He smirked, in the mood to tease. "I plan to take you to my estate and have my way with you… You are an innocent, aren't you? I must admit, I've tasted practically every sort of woman there is, though, I can't say a virgin has ever tempted me."

At the look of her shock, even Flynn admitted he had taken the ruse too far. He leaned back and was prepared to explain his true intentions.

He cleared his throat as her heart raced in panic. "Actually, darling…" he began, in a flatter voice, free of frills. "I have something to confess. I am not-"

"I'll marry you," Rapunzel proclaimed in a gravely stern voice. "I'll do it. Just don't – don't ruin me, please!"

Flynn blinked to her. "You'll what?"

"If you plan on – on taking me – I demand you marry me first. I hear you're practically in financial ruin. I am very rich, you know. With a large inheritance waiting to be shared with a willing husband."

"Marriage?" he said, his ears perking at the words 'very rich'.

"Yes! Actually, it might be very useful for the both of us," Suddenly, the mad thought calmed Rapunzel a bit. She still feared the man before her, but he seemed reasonable enough to bargain with. "I want freedom from my family. A woman can only acquire that by marriage."

"Marriage," Flynn repeated.

"Yes!"

"Damn me," he said, slipping back into character. Her face reddened at his constantly coarse choice of wording. Johnny would flog himself before cursing before a lady. She sunk further away from him and realized then she had possibly escaped one unwanted union only to be stuck with another. Suddenly, he pressed into her and she stiffened again. "You might have something there… Perhaps, it was improper of me not to ask you this before adducting you, but what exactly is your full name?"

"Rapunzel Ravenwood." She confessed and watched as his eyes widened. She might as well had said Large Bags of Money and Gold Coins. Yet, she was confused by his reaction. If he was not abducting her for her fortune, then why? "You must have known of my family name. Why else would you be kidnapping me?"

He looked to her and a quick lie came to mind. "Money is no object to a man like myself. No, I only have an eye for beauty. As I said, I was taken by you that night at the Alby Ball, and you did not even know it."

"Are you serious?" she asked, narrowing her brow observing the ridiculous man. "My word... I can't believe a word you say."

He deflated at that. The way she looked to him, it was almost as if she saw straight through his transparent charade. Like his plate of armor had turned as opaque as a wet handkerchief.

"You must believe my sincerity, darling. It is my truest and best asset," he assured her with every ounce of grandeur he could muster. Rapunzel said nothing and only turned her head from him. "But, you truly want to marry me?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. "And go along with the whole charade?"

"It appears I do not have a choice since you've kidnapped me to take me to your estate. If you are to… to ruin me tonight, my reputation is dashed either way."

"But marriage? It only seems like a fair bargain on my end. I become wealthy. I acquire you as a wife. And you must live with it. Are you… sure? It sounds damned miserable for you."

"I'll have freedom," she said, irked by his assumption, even if it were mostly accurate. "Kidnapping is one thing, but presuming what a person wants based on no personal information on them is absurd!"

"You want to marry me – a strange diabolical man- for freedom? How damned miserable is your life, anyway?" She said nothing and looked away at his piecing gaze. He shrugged yet admire the shape of her slender neck. "I recon, pretty damned miserable."

"We can lead separate lives. Is that not what the rich and married do anyhow?"

"Well, yes, to be certain. But I don't believe that's the initial intent. Normally, the wife's the one who thinks it's all true love and fidelity. It's the gentleman that proposes the idea of mistresses and amours. Though, often, it's all just kept hush hush."

"Then allow me to propose the most realistic idea of marriage there has been. I will keep to myself and my own hobbies while you can womanize and play cards with the boys until sunrise. I won't care and you won't feel the need to pretend to."

"And - the act of the consummation?" There was a devious smile in his voice that made her want to throw herself from the moving carriage. She said nothing, her mind unable to land on suitable words to share with the bold man. "It's the only way to make a marriage legal," Flynn pointed out. "Even if the couple has no plan on honoring said marriage in any real way..."

"Funny, is it only now see fit to ask my permission?!" she snapped, crossing her arms under her modest breasts. He looked her over trying to recall the last time a girl had rejected him. Nothing came to mind.

"My dear," he laughed at the apparent lunacy of her fear, "I would never force myself on you."

"You would kidnap me!"

"Yes, but that was only for show. Please. My reputation as a gentleman is all I have." Rapunzel almost laughed. Was he truly so unaware of what others whispered of behind his back? Flynn sighed at her silence and shifted in the car. "Never mind. I'll have my fill of mistresses. Besides, rutting with one's wife – more than once, at least – would lose its charm rather quickly, don't you think?"

Rapunzel stiffened as she stared straight ahead. Rutting was a crude sounding and unfamiliar word. Yet, the context of the sentence seemed to reveal its meaning to her. She could not recall a time she felt more uncomfortable in the presence of a person.

"No," he continued, oblivious to her distress, "I'll leave that business to the lower class. Me? I'd like to live like Old King Louis. Far too fanciful to bed his own wife. But not quite morally sound enough to behead a few!"

Rapunzel wanted to laugh in his face. This was the man women fawned over? Risked their reputations for? Squandered their own lives to love? He was the least romantic person she had ever spoken to.

"You know," he continued, "I'm not usually this honest... Look! You're already bringing out the best in me!"

"If this is your best then I fear to know you any better, Sir Eugene Ryder."

"Marriage is merely a contract between two willing participants, darling. A simple binding of fortunes. We don't have to get to know each other."

"Thank heaven for that."

He coolly glared to her, but inwardly, he had an odd feeling of dissidence. From the moment she proposed to him, she was no longer a name on his to-do list. Sir Eugene Ryder would never muddle his thinking with anything as superfluous as love. Yet, Flynn on the other hand was an entirely different man. One with the same wants and desires any man should have; a sense of honest love and family. The thoughts confused him, so he smiled to her and eased back into the words of his absurd character.

"This is a fantasy come to fruition, you know. And funny, isn't it? Women want a love match with a soulmate and men want a detached yet wealthy heiress with a need for freedom. Damn me, Miss Ravenwood. Perhaps we are truly soulmates in the end?"

"Impossible," she laughed humorlessly, looking out the window.

"Why, dear?"

"My soulmate, whoever he may be, can quote Shakespeare and Keats… and knows the difference between King Louis and King Henry the eighth."

* * *

Flynn offered Rapunzel his hand and greeted her into his stony world of the Ryder Estate. During the considerably long carriage ride, Rapunzel and Flynn had fallen quiet. This gave Rapunzel a fair amount of time to think over what had just happened. Yes, Sir Flynn Ryder had chosen her as his next victim to use and ruin. Yes, she was at a loss for how she inspired such feelings in a man she had never met. And, yes, she had offered him her hand in marriage which would ensure him the prize of her large inheritance. She was not sure what was to come but she sighed in relief to know Dame Gothel and Nathaniel were not a part of it.

Rapunzel took Flynn's hand and stepped from the carriage. She had seen the man's family manner once as Gothel and she had rode into the city. It looked like a gothic European castle though it was not hardly as old. For some reason, it emitted a sense of dread. It was the oddest thing, even if the sun shone directly on it, a shadow still seemed to be cast. At the moment, it was the middle of the night, and the sun was many hours from shining.

"Welcome home, dearest. Sorry, it's a damn dreary place. Though, you'll find it well suited for your new lifestyle, with all the comforts of home."

"We're truly to be doing this, then?" she asked, looking up to him. Only then was she able to take in his considerable height and the width of his wide shoulders. "Is this how you always planned to win your wife?"

"Not really," he said with a frown. "I honestly never planned on winning one at all. What need does a bachelor like me have for a real wife? You, however, are my saving grace. No more insipid chits calling for prospects of marriage. And, with any luck, no more invitations to the Alby Ball." Flynn was being honest, and, if he were being very honest, he would have added what a blessing the marriage would be for her in the end, too. Even if she were to marry such a bastard as himself, at least she would be away from that devious, yet dashing, aunt of hers.

They walked on and he opened the grand doors for her. As Rapunzel entered the house she felt as though she would bubble over with nervousness. And, however distant and dethatched Flynn appeared, he too felt the indiscriminate flutter of anxiety. A strange unspoken tension drifted betwixt them. It still seemed to linger no matter how much Flynn shrugged away ideas of life-long promises.

Once inside, Flynn lead her through the halls. Rapunzel could only look around in amazement. It reeked of wealth. From the fine rugs, leather chairs, velvet settees, hanging antlers, and art on every wall. An endless clutter useless items only displayed to signify status. It was nearly dizzying. And yet, with every inch filled with finery, it was void of any sign of life. She wondered how much time Flynn even spent in the manner.

Flynn gestured for her to head up a grand staircase and she tensely placed a hand on the banister. He glanced to it and noticed marks around her wrist. They were bruises left by Gothel. Like dirty fingerprints on a teacup. Rapunzel sensed his attentive eye and pulled her hand away, tugging down her sleeve. He cleared his throat and pretended as though he had not noticed. They carried on, up the stairs ascending into the unknown. At the top, he guided to a spare bedchamber, one that was once reserved for visiting family. Much to Rapunzel's dismay, not only was the outside of the manner dreary, but the inside halls seemed to match the cold exterior's aesthetic. Even the bedroom seemed to have a ghostly breeze wafting through it. She rubbed her arms to keep the cold from penetrating further.

"My apologies. I don't know where my damned housekeepers have gone off too. Plus, it's too late to call for one, not that they would listen." Rapunzel thought it was odd that Flynn did not seem to have command over his own manner employees. He spoke as if they had no respect for him which probably was not far from the truth.

Rapunzel examined the bare brick walls and musty bedding that seemed to be collecting dust. It appeared the room had not been cleaned in years. And, as Flynn went to direct her to the hearth, his hand brushed against her arm and felt her ice-cold skin.

"Zounds! My dear, you are frozen. This can't do. I can't have my heiress freezing to death before I can extract her riches!" he theatrically proclaimed, placing an arm around her shoulders.

"How very chivalrous of you," she dryly quipped.

"Not at all, not at all, my darling. You know, I'd rather like to pamper and adore you. Like the proper wife society will see you to be. Yet, damn me, all these halls and room and not one is fit for company…" Flynn drawled.

 _How peculiar,_ Rapunzel observed. The closer he came to contact with her the more his voice reached for the posh and fanciful vocabulary and vocals of Sir Eugene Ryder. Damn sounded more like 'Demn'. Each word had added frills. Was that the sort of speak the women he had enjoyed hearing?

"Makes a man wonder why anyone would ever agree to live in such a damned manner, damn me."

"King Louis had no objections."

He narrowed his brow untrustingly to her before a smart smirk appeared on his lips.

"You know, darling, the only chamber to be heated tonight is mine." He practically felt her tense again as her eyes widened and her heart raced. "Alas, teasing you is no fun when you look at me, your eyes like a scared cat's!"

"Forgive me for not trusting the man who just kidnaped me from my bed. My warm bed with my own decent sheets…"

"How's about this – you get my bed tonight. I'll take the fur rug by the fireplace. Think of it as an early wedding present."

Though a bed would be a welcomed sight, she doubted she would sleep soundly just feet away from the likes of Sir Eugene Ryder. Then, in the next breath, she yielded to his offer, and he placed a hand on her back to show her to his bedchamber.

"Tomorrow morning I'll send for a carriage. Something extravagant with velvet lining inside. We'll be needing an early start to get to the city." Said Flynn flippantly as they strode down a long dark hall.

"Tomorrow?" she asked.

He nodded, stepping into his bedroom. "Oh, yes. It's what one does when one elopes. A quick union and a swift ceremony. The papers will be in our hands come tomorrow afternoon."

Rapunzel stood cautiously at the threshold as he sauntered inside and threw his cape to an armchair next to the hearth. He stood at the fire and admired the way the heat warmed his front. Then, as he glanced to her by the door, looking as wide-eyed as a lost child. He couldn't ignore the sense of macabre her odd presence brought to the usually enjoyable act of a having a woman in his bedchambers. She seemed to have the awareness of a young adolescent, yet, the ripe and undeniable body of a woman. He could not help but be tantalized as she stood in his thin evening gown.

She avoided his eye contact anxiously, yet, there was no denying he was staring at her. It completely unsettled her. To have the man seem to notice something in her she did not think was there. It made her wonder what he was looking at. Yet, Flynn continued to unashamedly admire her. He had yet to see her closely in good light and he was taken by her looks. She had a round youthful face that promised of innocence yet large lips that beckoned with sensual promise.

He had to admit she was uniquely pretty. Like that green fairy. And those eyes… like Absinthe.

He stepped toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She crossed her arms and every muscle in her tensed.

"We are not married yet," she meekly reminded him. He smirked to her and she felt her face redden. There was no denying the man possessed a certain handsomeness few men did. And now, he stood before her in a state she had never seen a man; partially unkempt. His hair was windswept and loose brown waves hung over his forehead. His vest was unbuttoned and he was soon about to be in a state of undress.

"Of course. I know," he finally said. "I was only going to help you remove your gown. Don't worry, my darling. You'll be very safe with me. You are now a treasured representation of my soon to be large inheritance. I will take as good of care as you as a mother goose to her eggs."

He took her by the shoulders and turned her away from him. She did not protest. In fact, she suddenly found herself too overwhelmed to say a word. She was exhausted and the adrenalin of the night was wearing off. She steadied herself against the bed post as he united and unlaced her gown. He pulled it from over her head and he swiftly undid her corset. It was maddening to believe. Impossible. Flynn Eugene Ryder was undressing her as easily and professionally as a handmaid.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she stood in her undergrown. He left her side to pull back the covers of the bed. Part of her was almost shocked he did not have kick several women out first. Regardless, she quickly and graciously darted under the covers, glad as a girl in a red hood to be out of sight of a hungry wolf. He smiled at the sight and admired the way her long blonde waves cascaded over the pillow.

"You look so innocent," he whispered, looking down to her past his thick lashes. "I wonder… shall my wickedness make an impression on you? Does it live in you, as well?"

She was sensible not to glance his way. But as his presence hung over her she cowered away and held her breath until he turned.

Somehow, she slept. And she would be glad she did. The next day was scheduled to bring every possible discomfort she had yet to imagine.

* * *

Rapunzel woke after sleeping for one restless hour. She was met with the sound of rain pattering on the window and a young woman cleaning the fire place. She rose from bed and the servant woman suddenly looked up to her. She was young, no older than twenty, with golden brown skin and long wavy black hair that cascaded down her back. She looks to Rapunzel with gleaming dark blue eyes.

"Lord Ryder ordered me to allow you an extra hour of sleep," she stated without pomp. "The weather's been slowin' the driver. He's late."

Rapunzel stepped from the bed and looked out the window to note the bleakness of the sky and the downpour of rain. It was then that Rapunzel looked down and noticed her dress that lay on the floor. It was in a heap between the two women and sat like an unspoken tale of what transpired overnight. The sight made Rapunzel glow with a blush and feel a sudden flash of warmth. All at once, she was reminded that it was, in fact, her wedding day. She pushed unwanted thoughts from her mind and offered the servant her hand.

"I'm Rapunzel Ravenwood. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The servant looked confused by Rapunzel's kind introduction. Still, she took her hand and shook it.

"Sinder. I work here," she said simply before turning back to the fireplace.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance," Rapunzel uncomfortably said to her back. "I'm not sure if word has gotten out yet... but I'll be getting married today. To him."

"Married?" Sinder asked, turning back. Her tone was opinionated and her sudden display of emotion caught Rapunzel off guard. She blinked and made a small laugh.

"Why – yes. It's all happened very fast. I doubt the announcement will make the post this morning."

Just then, Flynn entered the room and the women turned to gape at him. He removed his hat and stood drenched from the rain as water ran off from his coat to the oaken floor. Sinder turned away from him and slowly dropped to her knees, getting back to her work with the hearth.

Flynn smiled kindly to Rapunzel and she raised her arms to cover her front. She noted how elegant he looked in his riding coat, tall hat, gloves, and fine pointed boots. His cravat was not nearly as extravagant as the night at the Alby ball but still tired with panache.

Everything was different in the light and she sensed a look of tiredness in Flynn's eyes.

"My darling. Sorry for the wait. The weather is absolutely hellish. It's as if God himself is spiting our arrangement. Can't blame him, though. Perhaps in the meantime we can find you something to wear? There's bound to be something hidden away in this vast bastille. Don't you think, Sinder?" he asked over his shoulder.

She nodded and quickly and darted out.

Rapunzel felt so tired, she felt the room sway like she was a sailor on the briny sea. She leaned against the window to steady herself. It was then she felt the pangs of hunger and realized she had not eaten since last afternoon.

"When he arrives, I must deal with the driver and make the proper plans," added Flynn at her side. "You know we have quite the day ahead of us. We'll need to travel to the far end of the city."

"Whatever for? Is there not a church in town?"

"There is. But there should be no willing priest I can pay off in Corona. And, now with this late start, I fear we won't be back home until sun fall. However, the Snuggly Ducking will be a pleasant halfway point to rest."

She looked to him with wide eyes. Did he really expect her to stay overnight in a gentleman's club? Then again, the Snuggly Duckling would promise the sight of Johnny. Rapunzel felt her heart break. All her years dreaming of marriage and it was to be lost to quick elopement to a man she hardly knew. No romance. No meaning. Not even a ring she could wear.

Flynn noticed her worried face and reached out to grace her cheek. She pulled away and her eyes darted to his. He lowered his hand awkwardly.

"Something's the matter."

She froze. She did not want to scare him off to her. She wanted to be as cool about the affair his him. Yet, she could not muster the same bravery he had against the whispers of gentile society. She cared what other's thought. She cared what he thought of her. And she did not want to seem like an emotional little woman being asked to her first dance.

"Perhaps," he began, "I could send you back here alone and I could stay at the Duckling. Johnny - my maddening business partner- made it clear there was some business to attend to there. I only thought I could kill two birds with one stone."

"I know Johnny," she said casually. Flynn looked to her in bewilderment.

"You do? How? I figured you were just locked away with some witch watching over you…"

"I did manage to get a glimpse of the outside world. Thanks to Kitty."

"Kitty?"

"His sister. My dear friend."

"His sister..." Flynn chewed over the word. "Damn me. I never noticed he had a sister."

 _We know._ Rapunzel wished to say. Her mind wandered then to her close friend. She imagined the look on her face once the rumor got around in town. She only prayed it would not worry her too much. She would have to send correspondence at once. But… then again, if she did brave the Snuggly Duckling, then she could see Johnny and perhaps confide in him. Then Kitty would be the first to know the full and true story.

Whatever was to happen, Rapunzel decided it could be saved for future determining. With that thought somewhat handled, another came to mind.

"That maid who was in here. She is-"

"Sinder?" asked Flynn. "The daughter of a man who keeps the grounds. Though, she's not his by blood. The mother, who ran away years ago, had an affair with a gypsy and she's the result. I've known her since she was born." Flynn then recalled what his father said when he saw the child born. _Send her to the_ _well. She'll be no use on the grounds._

"She seemed rather beside herself when I told her how we're... getting married." Her words called Flynn back to the present and he smiled charmingly to Rapunzel.

"Get used to it, darling. You'll hear the wailing of women for miles! Not to mention the cheers of husbands... if only they knew of our dastardly plan!" It was then Flynn looked out the window and saw the driver pull up. "Zounds, he's arrived. I'll make headway with the man while you dress. Make certain Sinder escorts you downstairs to eat."

His shoulders squared with hers and she felt as though they were drawn closer by an invisible rope. Like a noose that tightened with each breath they shared in the same room. Flynn nodded before tugging his hat back on and leaving her to brave the storm. The strapping man had a look of earnest good in his eyes. It confused Rapunzel. He was supposed to be more wicked and scandalous than Lord Byron. And yet, despite the fact he had stolen her from her bed, he was boyish and polite. At least, that was what he appeared to be.

Rapunzel sat back on the bed. Every knit of her soul yearned for sleep. Thoughts of a wedding made her stomach turn and, much like the figural knot of a wedding, tie in knots. Just as she was about to inspect the hall, Sinder returned with a heap of gown in her arms.

The young woman was beautiful in a way that was not fashionable with full lips, narrow eyes, and wild hair. Still, Rapunzel looked to her in awe. She had not been exposed to many people and the woman was simply and entirely different.

"I found this in the lady's quarters," the servant stated. "I'm sure she won't be missin' it seein' she's been dead 'bout 30 years."

"Lady Ryder?" Rapunzel asked. Sinder nodded, though a look of confusion grew on her face. She had no social training or care to hide her emotions, unlike Rapunzel.

"For a bride, you don't know much 'bout him."

"Our situation is not easy to explain. It's a marriage of… convenience. Unfortunately, I don't know much about Sir Ryder. There's no camaraderie involved in these sorts of pairings."

"Convenience?" Sinder repeated, still in perplexity. "That's what you call that?"

Rapunzel frowned and grew annoyed with the servant. She looked back at the gown in her arms. It was old and plain but would do nicely as a day dress. She took it from the girl and forced a well-mannered smile.

"Thank you, Sinder. Perhaps you can be my lady's maid once everything is set. I've never had one before."

"I do work my lady. And I have enough of it."

Rapunzel remained tight-lipped as Sinder helped her dress. Once they pulled the dress over her chemise they were both pleased to see she was not too dissimilar in size to the late Lady Ryder. Though the frilled sleeves that were meant to hang at the elbows were a bit large, it was not a terrible fit and would do for the day ahead. And, after Rapunzel mentioned her desire for breakfast, Sinder lead her down the stairs to the dining room.

They entered a large room with a long mahogany table that was a brilliant contrast to the emerald green walls. Candelabras were lit to off-set the gloom and, as Rapunzel went to take a seat, yells and banging of pots echoing from the room over preempted her.

"Langley and Porter," sighed Sinder before leaving the room. Alone, Rapunzel listened closely and heard the voices of an older man and woman accompanied by Sinder.

"I can't go out there, I'm not a proper butler!"

"And don't we know it. The master let go of all the footmen!"

"What does he expect us to do? Put on airs and act like the manner hasn't been condemned?!"

"Who in the devil is she, anyway?"

"His future wife."

Rapunzel walked closer to a door that was left agar where the voices trailed from. The three servants went on to complain about Flynn and the work he unfairly expected of them. It was then Rapunzel recognized the pomp and circumstance of keeping up with a once grand manner was gone. All that remained were a shell and phantoms. Funny, as much as Flynn seemed to care for looks and fashion, his house was bare of both. He must spend his time in fanciful inns and poker houses. There wasn't a trace of his personality to be found in the manner.

Rapunzel sighed in realizing her breakfast was some time from being laid before her, so instead, she absentmindedly wandered through the room. She looked over a table of antiqued trinkets and a large sword that hung over it. Sinder was right, she knew nothing of Flynn or his family. She had a shallow understanding of him and men like him. She speculated if there was more to know of him besides rumors and assumptions.

Before she knew it, she had entered the next room. It was a lavish smoking room meant to entertain guests after dinner. There was an untouched heart, a bar still fully stocked, and then… There, before the fireplace, sat a fine piano. For all the dull and lifeless items collecting dust in the manner, the piano seemed to sparkle with light.

She sat down before the instrument and felt inspired. Dame Gothel had demanded she learn the keys to entertain her. However, Rapunzel soon found escape in creating music. Once Gothel had noticed how it delighted her, it was sold at a state auction. Her fingers tripped over a few keys until something sprang from memory. She could not remember the name or composure. But it was somber, slow, and delicate. Her fingers hesitated and fumbled, but slowly, it came back from her past learnings.

Finally, Flynn entered the foyer soaking from the rain. "Porter!" he ordered, walking through the house and removing his hat. "I need assistance with the damned horses! Porter! Langley!"

Flynn stepped through the doorway to the dining room and was surprised to find it bare. "Where is she?" he asked before taking pause. At first, he only heard the commotion of his servants, and then, after a closer listen, another more displaced sound hummed through the walls. It caused him to stop in his tracks.

Just then, the servants quieted as well. They heard the music wafting through the room. The melodic sound would be mundane to a house used to hosting guests. However, to them, it was as eerie and unnatural as hearing the rattling of bones from the undead.

Flynn left the dining room as if possessed. Puddles of water trailed behind him as he entered the carpeted smoking room. The sight within nearly caused him to start in shock. She sat in the center of the dark room with her back to him, somehow illuminated like a ghostly vision. It took a moment for Flynn to try and reason with what he saw. It was not until he noted the frilled, over-sized, sleeves of the old dress that it connected in his mind; he had seen the very same sight years ago as a child…

As soon as the bickering of the servants ceased, Rapunzel sensed she was not alone in the room. She glanced over her shoulder and stopped her playing at once. She rose and stared to Flynn who looked to her agape. In the next moment, a tall older woman entered accompanied by a man who looked better suited as the drunkard at a public house.

"Damn me," Flynn whispered before looking sternly to his servants. "This is what I find? My help rendezvousing in the kitchen while my future wife invades a space no one is to enter?" The pair said nothing and Flynn sighed before calling for Sinder. The girl slunk behind the older pair and starred sheepishly to Flynn.

"You went through her things?"

"You told me to, my lord."

"I told you to - never mind." He looked back Rapunzel before quickly approaching her. She sharply inhaled as he took her by the arm. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked in a demanding voice. He was not meaning to be violent but his manner was confused and not as friendly and light-hearted as before. It startled Rapunzel and she looked to him with fear in her eyes. "So be it. A Lord of his own manner must do everything. Come now. The driver is waiting." Flynn added as he escorted her from the room. He knew that look. The look of a person who was preparing for a blow by fist. His heart sank as he realized why the girl was as she was.

He left her side as he rounded up bread and cheese in the kitchen. He wrapped it in cloth to get a protest from the grimy-looking man.

"Where are ye goin' with me lunch, Ryder?"

"Your lunch is now my wife's breakfast you were too lazy to prepare, Porter," said Flynn taking Rapunzel by her arm and leading her to the door. He stopped at the coat rack and pulled down a cloak of his. He threw it around her and she was instantly engulfed by the smell of brandy, cigar smoke, and sandalwood. The strong smells of a gentleman's club reminded Rapunzel of the strange new world she had somehow entered.

Flynn then opened the door and the brisk wind and rain met her fiercely.

"Farewell, my dear friends," he called in bitter sarcasm. "Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find a married man."

With that, Flynn and Rapunzel left Ryder manner.


End file.
